


Steel Fist in a Velvet Glove

by meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: Falling Skies, Fringe
Genre: Gen, Movie Reference, New Year's Resolutions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-10
Updated: 2012-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-29 07:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She might look like Sonya Rankin but Nina Sharp is a very different woman, literal steel under her velvet demeanour as Weaver and Pope are about to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steel Fist in a Velvet Glove

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kittydesade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittydesade/gifts).



> Mildly cracky, and un-betaed. Fills the request for a Nina Sharp crossover and while I don't know how well it fulfils the 'love-to-hate-him' aspect it does heavily feature Pope because Pope's snarkiness is my favourite thing about Falling Skies.

Weaver stared at the woman seated at the table. It wasn't possible she could be the same woman. This woman – Nina Sharp, she'd told them – was calm and self-assured and not at all like the delusional Sonya. Yet she was a dead ringer for Sonya, an identical twin, maybe a clone – before the invasion Weaver wouldn't have entertained such thoughts but clones would be no more unbelievable now than the impossible but all too real spaceships and their alien occupants.

"I'm sure they'll be back soon," Weaver said. He'd sent Tom to go and check on Sonya, mostly for his own peace of mind, but peace didn't come while he was in the same room as Nina. Somehow her silence made him uneasy.

She nodded, tugged at the sleeve of one long black glove. Evening wear, Weaver thought. The gloves spoke of elegance and sophistication. "As you said five minutes ago."

Tom entered without knocking and beckoned him over. Weaver could feel Nina's eyes, bright as a sparrow's, on them as Tom updated him.

"Well," Weaver said, turning back to Nina. "It seems the woman you closely resemble is still at her apartment."

"So I am, as I've been saying since I arrived here, Nina Sharp?"

Weaver shrugged. "I guess so." Concepts like forms of ID had been lost with most other day to day realities. Credit cards and driving licences had no meaning in this post-apocalyptic world and few people carried them now even if they'd managed to hold onto them after the short lived war. Nina, if that was her name, wasn't carrying any ID, but he could hardly fault her for that.

"Then you'll help me?"

Weaver took a seat opposite her. "You said you had information," he said evasively.

"I do. And we'll both benefit from mutual cooperation, starting with you trying to find Dr Walter Bishop."

Just in case she was telling the truth, Weaver had gone over the personnel records and reported sightings for any mention of anyone called Bishop, to no avail.

"Also his son, Peter Bishop, and Special Agents Dunham, Lee and Farnsworth." Nina sighed. "There's little point in secrecy now, so I will divulge that they were part of the Fringe Division, a special unit dedicated to investigating supernatural and advanced scientific phenomena."

"Supernatural?" Tom asked dubiously.

Nina fixed him with a sharp gaze. "Any sufficiently advanced science –"

"Is indistinguishable from magic," Weaver said. She gave him a surprised look and smiled. Weaver felt good about finally throwing Nina off guard.

"Quite. Aliens weren't something they had anticipated but would have been better prepared for than most. I have great hopes that some or all of them will have survived the initial attack."

"Tell us again how _you_ survived the initial attack," Weaver said.

She did; she worked for Massive Dynamic and had taken shelter in the underground bunker below their headquarters. Her team had been investigating ways to repel the aliens but Nina knew Walter Bishop was their best hope of success. She and Broyles and some security officers had set out to try and find him – something about intel suggesting he'd head out this way for reasons even Nina wasn't sure of - but a Skitter attack had separated the party. Nina skirted over the details and Weaver thought he'd make her go over this again a lot of times in the future until he was sure she wasn't lying. Nina and two security officers had made their way on foot until one succumbed to an injury sustained during the attack.

"And then my last companion was killed by two ruffians," Nina said.

 _Ruffians_ , Weaver thought. What an odd choice of word. "How did you escape?"

"The sidearm you confiscated when I arrived here. And thankfully two days later I found Second Mass. Or to be more accurate, Hal Mason found me and brought me to you."

Something didn't add up, Weaver thought. Nina was more than the façade she was presenting, that much he was certain of. She was steel under that velvet veneer if he was any judge of character.

There was a knock at the door. Tom opened it and Pope limped in, carrying a tea tray. "I'll go ask around about the federal agents," Tom said – it was a long shot, but worth a few minutes of their time - and left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Tea. How civilised." Nina watched Pope set out the cup on the saucer that didn't match. "For a moment I thought they were sending you in to interrogate me, although I confess I'm not afraid of you despite all that wonderful ink."

Pope shrugged and poured the tea. "They don't let me play with prisoners. The woman you look like had a hard-on for tea, so Tom figured you might enjoy it too."

Nina smiled. "I do enjoy a decent cup of tea, yes."

"So there's another woman out there, just like you," Pope said doubtfully. "With that same hair? Seriously? It doesn't even look real. Is it a wig?"

Weaver made to chastise Pope but Nina met Pope's gaze, the cup held daintily in her fingers. "No. Is yours?"

In the long moment that followed, Weaver held his breath. He expected Pope to react violently and he took a step forwards but to his surprise Pope laughed and pointed one finger at Nina. "I like you, lady."

"Nina," she said.

"Pope."

 _Great, she's bonding with the criminal_ , Weaver thought. That was all he needed.

Nina sipped the tea. "This is good. First decent cup I've had in about a month. I wish could repay you." She frowned. "What happened to your leg?"

Pope glanced down at himself. "Gunshot."

Nina tipped her head. "Massive Dynamic was working on regenerating nerve cells before the attack. Perhaps if we retake the planet I can get you onto the first human trials."

"Massive Dynamic? I had a toaster from them once," Pope said. "It set on fire."

Nina sighed. "People always remember failures, no matter how great your accomplishments."

"Ain't that the truth," Pope agreed.

Something stirred at the back of Weaver's mind. "Massive Dynamic…your company is involved in robotics, right?"

"Amongst other things, yes. And we're interested in studying the aliens and their technology and in particular the harnesses they use on the children," Nina said. "We could mount a counter attack if we can first deactivate their weaponry and free the children."

"Then what are you going to do, lob broken toasters at them?" Pope jeered.

Nina placed down her cup and took off one glove. She fixed Pope with a unwavering gaze as she took hold of the skin by her elbow. Weaver watched with growing horror as a nightmare unfolded in front of him, Nina peeling back her skin to reveal a metal exoskeleton.

Pope had the decency to back away in fear while Weaver cursed the fact that he was unarmed – it was protocol to never interrogate a prisoner with a gun that might be turned against you. And Nina wasn't dangerous, was she, so there wasn't even a guard outside because they were running extra patrols after a Skitter got too close last night.

He'd known she was steel underneath, but he'd meant it metaphorically, not literally.

"She's a freaking Terminator," Pope yelled.

"Now, now, Mr Pope," Nina said calmly, robotic fingers flexing. "This is the only part of me that is cybernetic. I'm showing you it to demonstrate the sort of technology I can give you access to if you all stop playing your cards so close to your chest and commit to finding one of the Bishops."

Weaver stared at the robotic hand. "You must be strong."

"It responds as a normal human hand would," Nina assured him, "unless I'm under stress. And then the adrenaline kicks in and well, yes, I could snap your neck like a twig." She folded the skin and then the glove back over the metal, nonchalant as all hell.

Weaver swallowed. "We'll do whatever we can to help find Dr Bishop or his son," he promised. "And we'll share information with you so long as you do the same."

"I'm so glad we're going to work together," Nina said with another wide smile. Weaver couldn't stop staring at her arm though. "I imagine Walter can adapt the harness and use it against the aliens – possibly some kind of feedback loop that will disable them, although I'm sure he will have more imaginative ideas."

"A virus, like in _Independence Day_?" Pope suggested.

"We'll see when we find Walter," Nina said. "And Peter Bishop and Olivia Dunham; we need to find them. If we can't defeat the aliens those three people may be our only hope of evacuating what is left of humanity."

"Evacuate to where?" Weaver asked. "The whole planet's varying degrees of wasteland and we can't travel far with all the damn aliens out on patrol."

Nina picked up the cup again. "Now you don't expect me to give away all my secrets, do you? Not without dinner, or at least a fresh pot of tea and some cookies."

"Pope, think you can whip up some cookies for Nina?" Weaver asked.

Pope nodded, eyes fixed on Nina, still awed by her bionic arm. "Sure," he said, adding with a deliberate accent as he left the room, "I'll be back."

Technology beyond anything he'd seen, promises of evacuations, agents trained to handle aliens. Nina was quite possibly their saviour, unless she was to be their doom. All things considered, Weaver was willing to take a chance that Nina was on their side, because if she wasn't then they were even _more_ screwed, something he hadn't previously thought possible.

To convince himself of the rightness of his actions and to show Pope wasn't the only one who watched movies, Weaver said, "Nina, I think this is going to be the start of a beautiful friendship."

She raised her cup. "I'll drink to that."


End file.
